Friday, December 5, 2014

F3 The Spy

Flynn
studied the man in the closet, who had metal bindings on his wrists. Eltie had
also taken advantage of the servos in her armor to hang him from a hook in the
closet. The binders cut into the man's wrists with his entire weight on them.
Despite the injury, the man looked nonplused. He had a few years on Flynn,
looking to be in his early fifties with iron grey hair and eyes that matched.
He had a shaggy beard peppered with the black of his original hair color. In
the small hole in his beard, he had on a casual, easy smile. As if we were old
friends.

"You
want to join my crew? You and a half dozen marauders breached my ship, and you
want to join my crew." Flynn rested a palm on his pulsar pistol.

"Absolutely,"
the man said, ignoring the threat. "I did surrender to your fine
lieutenant straight away, which I hope goes some distance to proving my
sincerity. My name is Connor Reese. I don't expect you've ever heard of me. I
am not famous or have any notoriety whatsoever. Before I continue, could I get
your name. I would like to know who I'm speaking with before you decide to kill
me."

Flynn
looked at him hard for a good three seconds before answering, "Peter
Flynn."

“Peter Flynn. Or should I say
Captain Peter Flynn, a famous man whose reputation definitely precedes him.
Your trial was something to see. All of the Alliance got you see you as—"

"Finish
that sentence and you'll have a hole in your throat." Flynn interrupted,
pulling his pistol.

"Quite
so. No need to mention that part. But there was also the battle of Fagan's
Forge, where you received certain commendations, particularly the black
nova."

Flynn
lowered his pistol. "That mission is classified. Exactly how do you know
about that?

"You
know of Systems Intelligence Directorate. How could you not given your
past."

"You're
an SID man?"

"Well,
no. I'm going to be completely honest with you as I suspect we have more in
common than you might suspect. I work for an intelligence agency that supplies
SID with information so they can report it to the government. I have a variety
of useful skills to offer you and your crew."

“So what
brought you out here, hiding out with a gang of pirates?

Reese
looked at him, weighing what answer to give. The smile disappeared.

"Like
you, Captain, something went horribly wrong."

"And
you're trying to put the pieces back together."

"Aren't
you?"

"Humpty
Dumpty the Cosmic Egg is broken. There's no putting him back together. I'm trying
to have a life, now."

"Somehow,
Captain, I think you are lying, to yourself more than me."

"It's
a lie only until it becomes true."

Flynn
looked at the man, weighing the man's words. It could all be a lie. It could
all be true. The smart move, the safe move, would be to kill him and move on.
It was what Ann would say. Maybe even Hank. If asked for a straight opinion,
Eltie would say it's wrong to kill in cold blood. Battle, sure, but a prisoner,
without judge—the crash of the gavel sounded in his head again—or jury, was
murder.

Flynn
flicked off the pulsar, then holstered it. "You're a passenger. Free
access to the common areas of the ship, but Lt. Kimball is going to watch you
while you're on board. If you make yourself useful, prove yourself trustworthy,
you can join the crew. Cross us and you'll be floating. Clear?"

"As
unreflected starlight, Captain." He seemed to relax some. It wasn't any
one thing, but how his entire body seemed less rigid, less ready to spring into
action.

"Let
me undo the binders, and—"

Connor
twisted his wrists and the binders popped open. "No need. As I said,
Captain, I have skills. And I promise to be quite open with you in order to
gain your trust."

"That
trick doesn't exactly make me feel any safer."

"Honesty
isn't about safety. That's why we lie. Lies are the warm, dark shroud we wrap
ourselves in to keep the truth out."